


Sleepless

by Pacifia



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Brothers, Family Fluff, Gen, Humour, Sleepless nights, snoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:00:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28361316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pacifia/pseuds/Pacifia
Summary: The night is dark. But there is no sleep. Because SOMEONE won't stop snoring
Relationships: Edmund Pevensie & Peter Pevensie
Kudos: 15





	Sleepless

**Sleepless (because _someone_ won't stop snoring)**

.

.

_London, England - October 14, 1945_

His snores resembled the wail of a dying wild boar and an alligator's bellow jumbled together in the most hysteric manner.

My ears, now fed up with the constant rattle, were also supplying to the utter nuisance, ringing with the haywire sounds of his snores. I balled the fabric of the bedding in my fist, scooching away from the bed my brother was sleeping in, still snoring like a morbidly obese walrus. Even from the distance of the whole room, the terrible noise was making my skin itch with pure irritation, and my ears swell up and feel like they're on the edge of bursting. Perhaps being deaf would be a more peaceful fate than this.

But alas, the whale-like gurgling continued, literally making my brain daft. I lied prone on my chest and slapped my head onto my pillow twice.

But then, at once, _for_ once, there was silence, the air as quiet as the light from the streetlamps streaming in through the window. It was silent, just as mid-night should be. My inward relief and gratefulness was inexplicable, and I tightly shut my eyes to whisper soft thanks to the stars.

And just as my hope of finally achieving sleep was concreting:

_Zzzz-Hurrrrrr…_

I banged my fist with harsh force into the mattress, and the impact made no sound except a soft rustle of the bedding. Grinding my teeth, I turned to my side and covered my ears with my pillow. But the terrible snores penetrated the pillow as well and I wished I could scream in annoyance. But I shook my head and buried myself into the mattress, kicking away the blankets when the room felt stuffed again.

_I should wake him. I'll just subtly shake him and he'll get the message. I can—oh, I have to! He's driving me bonkers! I have every legal right to murder him in his sleep. No, wait, that's too far. I'll just shake his shoulder once, and then blame it on Lucy in the morning! I've got to wake him!_

Similar thoughts fueled my courage and I sat up, swinging my legs to the side of my bed. I jumped to my feet, ready to carry out my faultless plan. But my mother's voice in my head stopped me:

" _He's been studying so hard at the university. It's the first night he'll finally get a restful sleep without the load of books and syllabus burdening him. So, don't you bother your big brother tonight, alright, children?"_

We had all nodded our heads hastily.

I sighed as my conscience slowed my steps. But I was already at his bedside. He looked like a baby, fussed and rosy. And people said _I_ was the cute one. I rolled my eyes. And then the snores became even louder. Cursing his blocked sinuses under my breath, I whipped around, and fetched my own pillow from the bed.

The pillow's loss would hurt profoundly, but if it meant sleep, I could endure it. Gingerly and with extreme care, I placed the fluffy pillow over Peter's contently sleeping face. The snores sputtered to a stop but Peter groaned sleepily and slapped the pillow away, throwing it on the ground. Within a total of half a second, he was snoring again. I slapped my face and a wish to smack him over the head hard overcame me.

But instead of that, I pinched his nose. He groaned and turned restlessly, forcing me to lean over. At last, he was still again. And he wasn't snoring. Though his face was turning red from the lack of air.

He gulped, moaning in his sleep, hands searching the bed for a weapon to fend off the intruder. He was near to full-consciousness. He was going to wake up.

_But I can fix this!_

I quickly withdrew my hand and he sucked in a long breath. Coughing once, he turned, and then turned again so he was lying on his back. He was asleep.

And it was quiet.

No hideous, gurgling snores.

I shrugged, feeling the task was too simple to accomplish after all. Overcome by sleepiness, I longed for my own bed. I had only half-turned when the snores came back, sounding like a cow trying to sputter out the water it had inhaled. I screwed my eyes shut and clenched my fists. I _really_ wished I could I throw him out of the window.

But I refrained myself and turned. Taking a deep breath, I adopted another method, and slowly plucked the pillow from under his head. He shifted on the bed, frowning in the discomfort.

He had stopped snoring.

I sighed in relief, cheering myself, holding the pillow over him to smack him with it if he began those abhorrent snores again. But he didn't. I felt like I could cry. Placing the pillow beside him, I turned, absolutely ready to fall onto my bed and fall into a dreamless slumber instantly.

But . . .

_Zzzz-hurrrr…_

I lost it.

Fuming, I whirled around. And I screamed, "Shut up, _shut_ _up_ _, SHUT_ _ **UP**_!"

Peter jolted awake, struggling, getting tangled in his blankets. Unceremoniously, he toppled over the side of his bed.

He groaned.

And the door burst open.

"What is _going on_!" yelled our father, emerging in the doorway with Susan and Mum, all eyes turned to me.

Peter's hand appeared, clutching to the bedsheet. With its support, he hauled himself up, rubbing his eyes. "Ed, by Jove, stop screaming!" he exclaimed. "You ruined a perfectly good dream I was in the midst of enjoying."

I gaped, raising my finger to object, but Susan walked over to Peter and looked at me scornfully. "Mum said to be quiet, didn't she?" she said, and Mother made a face at me, before murmuring something in Father's ear and disappearing into the darkness of the hallway. Susan led Peter back on the bed, while I still gaped. She turned to me and reprimanded sharply, "Now, close your mouth, Ed. You'll surely catch a fly with that wide gape."

"I'll expect you to share your pastry with me now," Peter was saying, getting hummed to sleep by our sister.

Chest heaving with anger, I took a step forward, but Father's hand on my shoulder stopped me. He made me turn to him and smiled fondly. I furrowed my brows. And he mouthed, _I know_. I blinked and he embraced me lightly before whispering in my ear, "You can sleep in the living room. Come on, son."

And I, smiling, let him lead me towards the door.

We were at the door when Peter's voice stopped us. "And Ed?" he called sleepily. "Take some of Mum's medicine."

He laughed. "You snore."

I lunged for him but Father caught me mid-air by my waist. And as I kicked and flailed my arms to reach him, Father quite literally carried me out of the room. In the hallway, Father chuckled and put me down. Putting an arm around my shoulders, he ushered me towards the stairs, and whispered:

"He gets it from your mother."

**Author's Note:**

> And now you know. (Alright, maybe Peter doesn't snore that loudly. But Edmund was mightily sleepy.)


End file.
